


The Dog and the Storm

by MerlinOfTheShire



Series: Adventures With Bucky [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Best Friends, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky adopts a dog, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Storms, The Storm reminds bucky of hydra, rescue dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-05 20:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18836512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinOfTheShire/pseuds/MerlinOfTheShire
Summary: Bucky had spent months by himself before he came to Steve, but now he was beginning to feel safer around his friend and less so alone. Caught somewhere in-between the old Bucky and the Winter Soldier.Steve eventually has to leave for a mission, and Buck's pretty sure he was going to be fine by himself for a couple of days.Until the storm hit and Steve won't pick up the damn phone.





	The Dog and the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot of this story and any original characters. 
> 
> A/N If you want you can go check out my fic 'One Last Sacrifice.' Bucky and Steve go to Vormir to get the soul stone, not knowing the cost. Obviously, Bucky was never dusted in that one. 
> 
> This is an updated version of the fic I posted on fanfic.net under the same name. There is also a small easter egg to a future part, if you have read them before. Or will later.

Bucky fiddled with his shirt nervously as he waited for Steve to get off the phone. It was early morning but he had been listening carefully to Steve's voice for a while now; there had been a fair bit of raised voices and arguing. Things like 'I don't know if he is ready for that,'  and 'Can't you just send Clint or Nat?" could be heard coming from the kitchen. He had to admit, he had seen this coming for a while now. Steve had to work sometime, but for as long as he had stayed at Steve's apartment, Steve hadn't left for a mission once.

He would have to leave at some point.  

In truth, he really didn't want to be left alone for as long as he imagined Steve would be, but he knew Steve didn't really have a choice. Even if Steve did, he had a life outside watching out for him. He wouldn't be angry at Steve for leaving. How could he be? Didn't mean he wanted him to go, though. He had spent months by himself before he came to Steve, but now he was beginning to feel safer around his friend and less so by himself. 

"Fine, I'll talk to him," Steve said, ending the call and returning to the living room. Bucky watched him approach. 'The look' was on Steve's face again. The look he always had when he was about to say something he didn't agree with.

Steve sat down next to him, hands clasped in front of him. He didn't say a word, staring straight ahead as if searching for the right words. 

Bucky sighed in resignation. "You're leaving," he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

Finally, Steve faced him, running a hand over his face. "I don't want to, Buck," he said honestly, "Fury wants me to recover some information from ...someone." 

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How old did Steve think he was? "Hydra," he corrected, "you can say their name, Steve. I won't break." 

_Yes you will._

He pushed the thought aside. No, he would not. He could hear a damn name without becoming a broken wreck. He wouldn't do that again, break. 

Steve was looking at him funny now, almost sadly. Sympathetically? Bucky wasn't he liked that. Too much like pitty. He didn't want Steve to pity him, or for himself to be a burden that caused Steve to feel obligated to stay. He really didn't want that.

His expression still the same, Steve reached a hand over to place on his shoulder, "Bucky, it's okay to-" 

"How long?" he asked, eyes fixed on the space just shy of Steve's head. 

"I'll be back by tomorrow afternoon," Steve answered calmly.

Bucky could not ignore the sudden relief that overcame him. Not too long then. Two days wasn't bad. He'd done one day all the time. Another wouldn't hurt.  _But what about the night?_ Even before he started living in the apartment, he was always here at night. Where Steve was. 

Steve must have noticed his silence, for the hand on his shoulder tightened.

"If you want I could send Sam or someone to stay with you," he said. 

Bucky shook his head, looking away. "No, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself,"

With a sigh, Steve squeezed his shoulder one more time before removed his hand. "I'm going to go pack, okay." With that,  Steve rose to his feet and started to walk off.

Bucky's head snapped back so he could see Steve. "You're leaving now?" 

Steve turned back around, and seemed to study him for a moment, his expression unreadable for once. "I have to be there in two hours, I'm sorry. Emergency." He answered sadly, his head bowed a little.

He nodded, once again resigning himself to the reality that was Captain Rogers.  _He's always just been Steve to me._ He turned his head away, letting himself lay down, his body curled towards the back of the couch. He heard Steve breath deeply, though not in frustration, before heading upstairs. 

 

* * *

 

Steve didn't want to leave Bucky. Yet, the universe seemed determined to make him again and again. Sure, going away on a two-day mission didn't exactly have a finality to it, but he still didn't like it. He knew Buck wanted to prove that he was fine; that he could handle it. He had survived by himself a long time by himself after he escaped Hydra, but Bucky had changed since then. He wasn't the Bucky he had grown up with before the war; he never would be again and Steve didn't expect him to either. But he wasn't the Winter Soldier either. 

Bucky was obviously frustrated with him, and with himself as well. Buck didn't want to be treated like some sort of rescue case, and Steve would rather die than make him feel like he was. All he wanted was to help, to give everything he could to Buck, but he was beginning to see that sometimes it made Bucky feel invalid. But he didn't want Buck to bottle his emotions up just for the sake of proving he could keep it together. 

He wanted Buck to know it was okay to 'break' as he would say. That it was normal to feel trauma when reminded of those who caused you to suffer. He wanted Buck to know that he was always going to be there for him, whether it be the next room or the other side of the world.

Or a few states over.

It hadn't taken long to pack. The contents of his duffle bag only included a change of clothes, a first aid kit, a phone, some other equipment. He had Peggy's compass with him of course, and a small watch with a picture of Bucky inside it. Bucky had given him the watch before he left for the 107. Those old movies only ever focused on his compass. Never the watch.

Having nothing else left to postpone the inevitable, he made his way back downstairs to the where he knew Bucky was still sleeping. He pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket, kneeling down in front of the couch. "Bucky?" he asked softly.

Bucky's eyes opened tiredly. "Going?" he asked eventually.

He nodded. "Got to, Buck. I'm sorry," he said quietly, pressing the slip of paper into Bucky's hand gently. "That's got Sam's and my emergency number on it. Call either one if you need something, ok?"

Bucky nodded, curling his hand around the slip of paper. "Sure, Punk," he said with a small smile.

Smiling back, Steve leant forward so he could pull Bucky into a hug as best he could. Bucky tensed for the smallest moment, but soon relaxed, melting into the hug. "See you when I get back," Steve said, pulling away.

He barely made it out the door before tears began to silently fall.

 

* * *

 

Bucky watched the credits of the movie begin to roll down the screen; it had been hours since Steve had gone and night had fallen long ago. He had been putting off sleeping for as long as he could, but he hadn't slept much over the last few days so the odds were against him. He could feel it creeping up on him. His exhaustion. Forcing his eyes to stay open, he uncurled himself from the couch, placing the slip of paper on the armrest. Until now it had still been held closely in his hand, just in case. He headed to the window, cautiously drawing back the curtains a fraction of an inch. His eyes flickered along the dark street. Street lights illuminated the empty road and walkways, spotlighting the surrounding driveways. All empty. It was darker than usual though, heavy clouds blocking out the light of the moon. 

Satisfied no one was near, he made his way around the house, checking all the doors and windows were still bolted shut. He had to check, even if he knew he had made sure after Steve left. It would ease his mind if he saw they were all locked one more time before sleep. Of course, they still were, and he found his feet carrying him upstairs to his bed. His head hit the pillow with a thud, and his eyes soon grew too heavy to keep open.

His mind, however, had no plans to shut up anytime soon.

It was an unpleasant feeling, being tired but unable to sleep. Like you were caught in between the two somehow. He tried to focus on relaxing thoughts; memories from when he was kid were always nice. The content of them wasnt always, but they were familiar and comforting, and unmistakably his. Steve was a wreckless shit back then, always picking fights with guys twice his size- actually he still was a wreckless shit. And for a guy so smart he really could be an idiot sometimes. Keeping a spare key under a lone brick, right in front of the door? _Really_ , _Steve?_

Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all, he turned away from the window and pulled the duvet over himself, tucking it under his chin. He didn't like being cold, and his arm really didn't help matters. Luckily the duvet was heavy, and he soon let its warmth help relax him further. He would be asleep soon, for it was now only by his own will that he was still awake.

A low, rumbling sort of sound suddenly filled his ears. 

By the time his eyes had snapped open, it had stopped. That sound was familiar. 

He felt his breath hitch as another round of the noise sounded outside the window. It was too damn familiar. Shaking, he sat up in the bed, facing towards the window. It might be nothing-

A blinding light shone through the blinds, illuminating the room for one electric second.

Thunder. The sound had been thunder.

Thunder meant lightning. Lightning meant storm.

The sound that always came after the strike once again filled his ears, loud and rumbling. Barely a momment later another clap of lightning lit of the room, and Bucky couldn't fight back the way it reminded him of a different kind of electricity. The kind that destroyed who he was and all he could remember. His eyes widened with fear, the pain of the machines sting and the helplessness he felt as real now as it had been then. Wanting to get away, someplace away from any windows, he rushed to escape the heavy covers and sheets. They tightened around his legs in his desperate efforts, holding him in place. Trapping him. 

His heart was beating faster now, the fact that he could still see the room around him being the only thing convincing him he wasnt back there in that chair.

He had to get out of this room.

His chest tightening with the effort it took to beath, he finally kicked the sheets lose, falling out of the bed in the process, lightning flashing in his eyes. He bolted for the door, half tripping over the sheets caught around his foot before he ran down the stairs, away from the upper windows. He all but lept over the couch, where he knew the numbers were. His hands fumbled clumsily for the piece of paper that Steve had left him, still on the armrest. As soon as he found it he made for a frantic grab for the phone on the coffee table. He dialled Sam's number in with shaking fingers before pressing the phone to his ear. Sam was closer. Steve was busy. He waited.

Nothing.

He tried again with Steve's and listened.

Silence.

He let the phone fall the floor with a small defeated sob. He sank to the foot of the couch, shaking as he drew his knees up close, hiding his face behind his hands. He didn't want to see that blinding light again, or hear the sound that came with it. He just wanted it to stop. To end. 

But still it went on, overwhelming his senses. 

"Steve, please help," he whispered between laboured breaths. "Come back." 

 

* * *

 

Bucky wasnt sure how long he had been sitting there, huddled in the dark while the storm raged on, when the front door was suddenly flung open. He almost jumped out of his skin, and his instincts drove him to be still despite the urge to flee. He breathed deeply, determined not to cry as he listened.  _They've found me. They're going to put me back in the chair. They're going to make me kill-_

"Bucky?"

He frowned.  _Bucky._ Not Asset. Not a soldier. 

Just Bucky.

His breath hitched, and he strained his eyes to see the figure in the doorway. He didn't have to try too hard because the lights were suddenly flickered on. How do they know where- Steve. It was Steve, dripping wet in the doorway, shield still strapped to his arm

He bottom lip began to shake, relief flooding over him. " _Steve,_ " he whispered, rising to his feet. A clap of thunder sent him falling back, a startled cry almost escaping his lips.

The shield slipped from Steve's arm, falling to the ground with a thud, and in a blur of motion, Steve was suddenly kneeling in front of him, hands placed on his forearms. "It's just lightning, Buck. I know it probably seems like more but I promise that's all it is.

Bucky focused on the hands on his arms. They didn't hold them tightly like a vice, instead, they were laid gently there, warm and gentle. He looked up and met Steve's eyes, finding a similar warmth in them. He held onto it, fighting to regain control of his breathing. "Just a storm," he said to himself.

Steve nodded, "just a storm."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, breathing deeply. "Why are you? How-"

"As soon as I found out a storm had hit, I turned around and came right back." 

Bucky went to question, but Steve hushed him. 

"Don't worry, I got back up. Clint and Nat have got this one after all." 

He nodded, looking away from Steve. "I thought ...when I heard the thunder and saw- I felt like I was strapped to that chair again; about to lose everything. I panicked and ran downstairs. I-" He paused, not sure how to continue. Steve squeezed his arms gently, encouraging him. "I tried to call you and Sam but you wouldn't answer. It was just silence and... why didn't you answer?" 

Steve's face crumbled. "Oh God. I'm so sorry, Bucky. The reception must have been off in the storm, that's why you wouldn't have gotten a connection. I promise I would have picked up had my phone rung. I promise."

Nodding, feeling tears finally beginning to fall, he leant forward so he could bury his face in Steve's chest to cry. Wordlessly, Steve wrapped his arms around him, resting his head atop his. Bucky tightened his grip on Steve's shirt, letting a small sob finally escape him. Hands began to rub slow circles into his back, helping him breathe. 

"You're okay, Buck. I got you; you're safe." 

And not for the first time, Bucky knew it to be true.

 

* * *

 

Steve had somehow managed to convince Buck to come out of the house with him for a drive. It had been a couple of days since the storm, and Bucky was sleeping a little better, but Steve knew he would be called away for a mission again eventually. It might be more than a couple days next time. At the momment, he wasnt sure how Bucky would fare for that long. He might be fine, but he might not be. The storm had been what had caused his friend grief, and Bucky had reassured him that had it not struck, he would have been fine for those two days. 

He believed Buck, but only Thor could control the weather. 

The drive was long, but Bucky had soon fallen asleep early on, finally getting some well-needed rest. Bucky looked more at peace than he had in a long time, his head lolling against the window as he slept, almost comically. He made a mental note to take his friend for drives more often. For sleep; not because he looked ridiculous. Obviously.

When they pulled up in front of the pound, a smile appeared on Buck's face that was so bright that Steve couldn't help but smile just as much so. It didn't take long for Bucky to begin staring into the various pens. All over-crowded. That dulled their smiles a bit. He had advised Buck choose a puppy, but he wanted an older one. Not caring to argue, he agreed and waited for Buck to make a decision, watching from the sidelines. 

He was somewhat contemplating taking them all. Maybe he should contact Tony about it...

Bucky stopped by each pen, and in each one some dogs would gleefully jump up against the wire, balancing on their hind legs. Other stayed to the back, tails between their legs. Bucky stayed a little longer at one particular cage,  crouching down in front of it. Steve could see it contained only one dog, a german shepherd; its mouth muzzled. 

"I wouldn't bother with that one," the attendee called, walking up beside Bucky.

"Why not?" 

Steve could hear the anger in Buck's voice, though it was well hidden. For the momment.

The attendee tapped the fencing with a stick of some sort, causing the dog to growl, her head not leaving her paws. "She doesn't much like people, that one. Been here for months; growls at anyone who comes near. Were putting her down tomorrow, to make some space." 

"Can I go closer?" Bucky asked, already moving.

It wasnt that Steve didn't like the dog, but muzzle or not, the idea of it potentially attacking his friend wasnt sitting so well. "Buck-"

Buck was already reaching out his hand through the fencing. To Steve's amazement, the dog began to belly crawl her way over to Buck, keeping low to the ground. But no hackles were raised or teeth bared. She didn't look all that anxious either. Only a little nervous.

"Hey there, girl," Buck said as the dog sniffed his hand, body wiggling slightly as she did. Soon the dog's nose moved to Bucky's metal arm, sniffing it curiously. Steve saw Buck try to move it away, but stopped short when the dog began to nuzzle it, licking one or twice. Bucky reached out and pet the dogs head, massaging her ears. Even from where he stood, Steve could see the sudden kindness in those friendly brown eyes; full of understanding. 

Dogs always just seemed to know. 

And Steve was pretty sure he knew which dog they were taking home.

"Hey, Steve," Buck called.

He smiled. Right on time. "Yeah I know," he laughed, "you've been chosen." 

Bucky smiled a wide toothy grin, finally stepping away from the dog, and soon Steve found himself being enveloped in a tight embrace. He returned it, shaking his head as he smiled too. "You've thought of a name yet? It's been five minutes." 

"Brook," Buck said easily. 

He laughed, "like Brooklyn?" 

"Yeah, like Brooklyn."  

 

* * *

 

Lots of things happened when they brought Brook home. But most obviously Buck began leaving the apartment more so he could take Brook for walks. She needed no leash and walked freely by Bucky's side. 

Brook showed incredible loyalty towards Bucky, which Steve was grateful for. Every time Bucky would have a nightmare, Brook would pad over to his door and bark until he got up and went to Bucky's side. Sometimes Brook would be enough though, and she would only have to be near  Bucky for him to relax. The first night they had brought her home, Steve had gone to say goodnight to Buck, expecting him to still be awake, only to find him curled up next to the dog, whose head was laid protectively on Buck's outstretched metal arm.

The next time he had to leave for a mission, he knew Buck would be alright.


End file.
